


some drabbles and wips

by uhohcanteen



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Crack Treated Seriously, Drabbles, Gen, Music, Origins SMP, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Hybrid Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Raccoon Hybrid TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Toby Smith | Tubbo, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Wilbur Soot, Self-Esteem Issues, Soft TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Soft Tubbo, Tommy-centric, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Winged TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-23 21:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 6,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30061995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhohcanteen/pseuds/uhohcanteen
Summary: compiled since probably november??? maybe earlier. who knows! anyways, this is just smp related stuff i've left unfinished or just stayed in the drafts lol
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this one is just a joke setup LOL

tommy is exiled after a conversation with dream escalated. he almost died on his way out, and its incredibly reminiscent of his first banishment of manberg. 

hes on the run for days, living in paranoia and turning at every snap of a twig and rustle of leaves. its night when he stumbles upon a cave, too dark for him to tell its manmade.

he passes out in the mouth of the cave, armor chipped and backpack protecting his chest, hugged tightly in his sleep. 

this is how techno finds him, scraped up and covered in dried and crusted blood, clutching a torn up bag meagerly stuffed with a few carrots and baked potatoes. 

he is tempted to bring him further into his abode, but figures he should instead let him be, resolving to protect him. he sits there until dawn, intense gaze flicking onto tommy as the kid snapped awake in an instance. 

tommy seemed scared, attempting to scramble backwards even though he was already against the cave wall. techno wordlessly stood, holding a hand out to him in invitation. 

figuring he had nothing better to do, and staying out was already certain death, tommy took a chance and took the invitation.

one day, tommy wakes from a recurrent nightmare, one that always unsettles him too much for him to fall back asleep easily. of course, he knew that techno didnt have a stable sleep schedule, tending to work whenever inspiration struck, but he still wasnt expecting him to be sitting in the kitchen aimlessly, sipping at something in a clay cup.

after the initial panic wore off, tommy said incredulously, “techno, what the fuck are you doing?” 

techno didnt turn as he said, “the voices wanted juice.”


	2. raccoon innit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just like a few sentences i thought it was funky at like 2 am

sam watched in interest and mild amusement as tommy approached him, the odd way the teenager slinked forward with curious eyes that had an undecipherable glint to them. his feet made no noise on the wooden path, hands fiddling with an obscured object as he grinned.

just as sam was about to ask tommy what he was up to, tommy let out a series of chitters, high pitched and animalistic. like a bird, or a fox, or-

it was here sam realized he had his new sam nook mask on.

a mask that resembled a tanuki.

  
sam held back surprised barks of laughter as he realized tommy was communicating like a  _ raccoon _ . now this was interesting.


	3. winged tommy angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this Was gonna go somewhere. idk where though oops

It had been a year since Tommy's wings had grown in.

He had tried to talk to Wilbur to discuss learning how to fly, but between Wilbur's own family and the jobs he worked to make a living for them, there was never quite the time nor the resources to manage it.

After the first few months, Tommy realized this, and resolved to wait for Phil and Techno to return- they should have returned within the next 2 months.

It had been 8 more months, and no dice. Tommy was now working his own job to make up for what Wilbur couldn’t do. His wings were poorly maintained, scraggly and aching, but as long as Tommy was able to get some food on the table when Wilbur couldn’t, it was okay.

The aching of Tommy’s wings would keep him up at night if he went too long without preening, he found out after a particularly difficult few weeks at work. That night, he sat himself on the rooftop, accompanied by the twinkling stars and a cool breeze that carded through his hair softly, sweetly. There, he sat for 2 and some hours, trying his best to gently tend to his dilapidated wings and the dead feathers that managed to get tangled on another. Sometimes, he would be overwhelmed all of a sudden, tearing his fingers through the snarls and hissing out in pain at the action and its associated bite of pain every time he did so, a cold sting coming to his eyes as they watered in consequence. 

His arms were aching, and his wings were sore, and the skin on the appendages felt pinched, but he had gotten both wings managed. Tommy noted absently that he should absolutely wash the things off when his eyelids were less heavy, but the mere thought of trying to rinse the raw skin right now reminded him of the tacky patches on his face, leftover from frustrated tears; it would definitely be a recipe for disaster.


	4. avian tommy angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chock full of self esteem issues and friends that fuck my boys shit up Smile

he used to like his powers, once upon a time.

he used to look at his reflection in the lakes, before he met niki, and gazed in awe at his pure white wings that glistened like liquid sunlight at the right angles. 

he used to gape at his tail feathers that could move with such dexterity, that spread out and granted him a smooth and graceful fall without the pain of regular impact.

he used to enjoy the benefits of his plant-only diet; the way that he could live in peaceful coexistence with the animals surrounding him- he had his fluffy pet cow named henry and he had his pet rabbits from the desert that flounced around in their pen without a care in the world.

but then wilbur came along, and constantly told tommy, right after an hour of scrubbing at his wings, that he really should try to take care of the dirt that apparently coated them. tommy tried to spend even more time lathering the appendages up after that, but it didn’t work.

but then phil came along and jokingly mocked his tail feathers for how thin they were, and would serve no purpose to a bird like himself. tommy tried to utilize them less, leaving them to only flick miserably sometimes when he didn’t focus on it.

but then tubbo came along and laughed at his measly stomach, which would revolt at the first taste of meat, and tommy’s resulting lankiness. tommy tried to slowly integrate animal products into his meals, but wouldn’t dare hurt henry.

okay, maybe tommy wasn’t as happy with his powers as he pretended- so sue him!

his wings were too small, their span barely reaching more than an inch out past his arms when he held them out; he would never be able to fly with them. 

not to mention, they were boring, too. they were stark white, easy to get dirty and hard to get clean, which was a big problem considering that tommy enjoyed rough housing with anyone willing to be within a foot of him. 

tommy’s wings were nothing in comparison to phil’s. phil, whose wings were magnificent, a beautiful dark purple-y grey that shimmered in the sunlight, light blue-almost-white flecks flashing in the sunlight like 24 carat diamonds in the rough. phil, whose wings made up for whatever height he lacked, nearly larger than him when merely folded up.

phil, who could fly almost better than he could walk or swim, with valiant swoops and primary feathers that whistled in the wind as he whooped with tangible joy. 

and then tommy, who could only barely glide on a good day, and that was only ever with the help of his scraggly tail feathers, in a constant state of mess and, in general, disrepair, much like their owner. 

tommy, who was forced into veganism, because his weak fucking chicken stomach couldn’t handle meat or dairy; he would know- the one time phil tried to get him to eat some steak, he couldn’t stomach anything for the next week, like a kind of life draining stomach bug. he was bedridden until he managed to eat enough bread to get some strength back into his trembling legs. 

because, yup, phil could have meat, and dairy, and anything he wanted, really. he was a bird without the drawbacks of being one, besides maybe the claustrophobia of enclosed spaces, but hell, tommy couldn’t even get a wink of sleep if he wasn’t at least 160 damned feet above every one else there- what the hell was with that? 

(dialogue just random doesn't happen directly now)

‘oh, what’s your superpower big man tommy?’ ‘oh, y’know, the sickest fuckin thing ever! i glide, bitch!’ who wants that! no one thinks that’s cool! but hey, at least i’m not as useless as fuckin- fragrance man over there. 

hey! 

what?

don’t bring other people down just to bring yourself up, tommy, it’s no good.

well, what else am i meant to do? compare myself to everyone else on the server who’s better than me? piss right off, man. look where that’s gotten me now!


	5. veteran tommy angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cringe angstfest i wrote this while i was in a Mood

Tubbo, strangely enough, awoke to singing that day. It was faint, from several rooms over, but it was loud and all encompassing as he blearily opened his eyes. It took a moment or two too long of looking at the over abundant amount of dust visible in the bright morning sunlight for Tubbo to realize that he wasn’t in his normal house, but rather a long abandoned room from when he was a child living with Technoblade and Wilbur and Phil and Tommy. 

The bedframe squeaked uncomfortably loud as he sat up slowly, swinging socked feet onto the cold hardwood floor and scrunching his nose as he tried his best not to sneeze. After a two minute long battle of contorting his face into the strangest expressions to ward off any potential sneezes, Tubbo figured he should go into wherever the singing is, because there was probably less chance of it being borderline boarded up. 

Probably. 

  
  
  
  


Tommy hesitated, blue eyes that had been lost to Tubbo for so long flicking to the windows that led to the surprisingly well tended farm, “I don’t think I particularly blame any of you; I’ve always been remarkably talentless, and it’s probably a better bet to take the kid who’s older and built better for a long distance journey with more than an ounce of intelligence than… y’know, me.”

Tubbo’s heart ached from its place in his throat, trying to swallow around it before prompting, “You?” At this, Tommy’s gaze returned to his older brother, looking remarkably surprised at the follow up question. He took a moment to consider how he wanted to answer, mouth tightening ever the more and eyebrows furrowing the slightest.

“Me,” Tommy said, after he seemingly collected his thoughts sufficiently. “The scrawny short kid who yelled more than anything and decided the first thing to do with a hoe was to try and hit someone with it, before realizing that he couldn’t even lift the goddamn thing. I’ve been on my own for 6 years, Tubbo, and I’m hardly even literate.” At this, Tommy huffed a laugh, finding it much funnier than his companion, who sat with a bitter look on his face. “What?” Tommy asked when he looked at Tubbo, “You look like you’ve sucked on a lemon, man.”

Again, Tommy laughed at his own joke, and it struck Tubbo once more how much things had changed, how Tommy’s voice was now deeper than his own, how Tommy could somehow cook a damn good meal without any semblance of a recipe, how Tommy’s old spitfire nature had dulled to the point where he thought for minutes on end as he tried for the words that would properly express himself, and how when he finally did speak up, his voice was soft and a little bit rough around the edges because of when he was used to talking to the cows at the rustic dairy farm and the sheep in their hay-insulated enclosure. 

“Did you have anyone to ever teach you how to read a proper novel, Tommy?” Tubbo asked suddenly, soured face still lingering somewhat. He supposed that the two might have that in common, the inability to read all too well, due to Tubbo’s dyslexia. It was a little fucked up, but deep down Tubbo hoped no one had, so they could at least find  _ some _ equal footing. He found his hopes dashed at Tommy’s pondering expression, once again floundering for the right answer.

“Technically, yes,” He replied. “One year, after a combination of blights that took out all of the root vegetables, I signed up to the war effort; they were desperate for anyone willing to fight, and paid enough for me to be able to make the trip to town and buy the replacement crops. I was 12, I s’pose, didn’t quite know how to properly farm or ration my food to accommodate for the seasons, and certainly didn’t know how to hold a rifle.” Tommy looked at Tubbo at this, a rugged grin splitting across his face that was a little too wide with corners turned down a little no matter how hard he forced it. “I’d say that I was a little faster on the uptake with the rifle than learning what exhilarating meant; I had the same teacher for both- ‘was this nice lady named Niki.

“She taught me how to write out letters to family members I didn’t have, taught me how to clean out the barrel of a gun without shooting myself in the process, and taught me how to cook, too.” Tommy once again looked outside, to where the sun was steadily climbing ever higher. “I think, after her discharge, she started up a bakery with her little brother- I think his name was Ranboo or something similar. At least, I hope she did; she always sounded so happy talking about it, I can only hope she gets to work at that damned bakery.

“She did,” said a voice from the hallway, and there was Wilbur, arisen at the mighty hour of- Tubbo checked the clock- 11 am. “I met her once, when I was performing in different cities; she’s very sweet. She, along with a fox kid that for some reason hated me, taught me bits of a language they spoke. I never really learned much, because I was still travelling wherever- you know- but it was a very pleasant experience overall. Her honey buns are magnificent,” he smiled, eyes crinkling happier than he had ever been as a teenager. 

“Fundy,” Tommy supplied after a moment. “What?” Wilbur asked, leaning onto a poorly varnished wooden countertop with a faded blue mug in hand. “That guy with Niki- his name is Fundy, right? He speaks Dutch, and insists with his entire being that he isn’t a furry.”

“Yeah,” Wilbur said lightly, and Tubbo was beginning to doubt that Tommy wasn’t as intelligent as the blond claimed, because Tubbo could hardly remember what the chords to a favorite song of his were after a week and a half without playing. “How did you know that, Tommy?”

“Fundy was the son of one of the officers at the war effort- her name was Sally. She was declared MIA a few months before I was discharged, but I honestly think she swam out far away from the conflict- she was a hell of a fighter, had impeccable aim, but she always seemed to want to get the hell out of there whenever I saw her.”

Wilbur perked up at that, intrigue wearing his face like a well worn glove. “Why’d you get discharged? Did they find out that you were lying about your age?” There, there was a crooked smile that seemed to mock Tommy, but both teens sitting at the table could see the emotional turmoil in his brown eyes. Only one understood why he seemed so frustrated, though.

“No, no, they knew I was 12 anyways, they just didn’t care. I think most people there weren’t fighting for prestige or a sense of morals, but for the money; too many of the soldiers had lockets that they looked at when things were looking bleak.” Tommy’s mouth tightened imperceptibly. “No, I was discharged on behalf of injuries they couldn’t treat properly there- they were under the impression that I had the people and the means to recover regularly once I returned.” 

Tubbo’s eyes shone a little, noting again how Tommy talked about how alone he was in his father’s abandoned cottage with such ease. Wilbur’s tone was a little too sharp when he tried to say playfully, “Let me see your battle scars, asswipe!” If Tommy took note of either, he said nothing. “The ones from my injuries before discharge, or-?” Tommy asked, trailing off. Still a bit too harsh sounding, Wilbur urged, “Any.”

Pulling off his messily knitted sweater to reveal the black turtleneck underneath, Tommy tugged down the neck of the shirt, revealing a gnarly scar that started at the junction between his neck and his shoulders and dragged painfully down further past where the shirt allowed vision. It wasn’t specifically stark in contrast, what with other scars left from blades also scattered about his neck, but it certainly looked the nastiest. 

“I got this one,” Tommy began, “from a guy named Sapnap. He’s mean with a sword, was pissed off about some animal killed in collateral. Took it out on me and another guy named Jack who wasn’t much older than me; Jack was hurt more, took the brunt of it because of some stupid ass moral code of me being younger or something. 

“He was discharged, too- shortly afterwards, when the potions did more harm than good because his body wasn’t processing them the way they should’ve- they must have gone bad, because they were pushed way back in the medical tent, and the cleric had been not doing his job for a while at that point. We never did get a new one, though, and it probably had a play in me getting sent home from a goddamned stomach injury along with a wound by my collarbone that ended up broken from the force of its impact.” 

“And how’d you get those, then?” Wilbur asked, not sure how, exactly, he was supposed to feel at that moment in time.

Tommy shifted a bit, and it was obvious that they had begun to venture into dangerous territory when he didn’t even show any outward reaction to Technoblade walking down the very same hallway Tubbo and Wilbur had both appeared from as well. “The stomach wound,” he said, voice uneasy and eyes seeing something not quite there, “was from a bastard named Eret. They had said she was on our side, and we trusted him- because why wouldn’t we? We were all fucking children, anyways,” he said with a bitter note.

“The land we were on set off a bunch of TNT, and while we were able to get into water that protected us from the blast damage, the enemies were still there. Eret- Eret had said that she had made a final control room for us, that was supposed to have supplies for us that we hadn’t gotten from the actual military suppliers, but as it turned out, they- they were a traitor. A button was pressed, and goddamn I should not have- if only I hadn’t-  _ God _ , then Gold and Smith would still…” As Tommy looked up with a grief stricken gaze, and it struck a chord in Wilbur’s soul as a tear rolled down Tubbo’s cheek as the implication sunk in. Technoblade had no such reaction, but his ruby red eyes shone with a sympathy Wilbur nor Tubbo could hope to compare to in this lifetime. 

“Anyways, that- that isn’t the point, um, the enemies from at the walls of our settlement were there, coming through the walls and stabbing shit- I got lucky, I only got a few scratches and then that stomach slash. The others who were on base at the time weren’t quite as lucky. I, uh- I killed Eret. Whatever he had been promised to make him turn, he never got as far as I’m aware. It was probably something dumb, like ‘King of Everyone and Their Surrounding Land!’ or some shit.

“I had managed to escape, afterwards, but like, a week or two later, I got shot by this dude we called Dream. He fought dirty, and I was a pre-teen, so it obviously wasn’t a fair duel, but it still happened. It was for them to release siege on the surrounding cities of our military base, and I had to give away the discs so my loss didn’t affect our side that much more. They kicked me out the next day. In all honesty, I’m beginning to think that the discharge wasn’t honorable at all, and they were just trying to get me out of their hair, probably.”


	6. crack mexican dream x george heart eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> treated seriously , written as a joke w a discord bc we were listening to la chona slowed and reverb

It was dumb, MD decided then, as he ran for his life from Dream, who was shouting something about an illegal possession of drugs, to have such a naive trust for people. He had always known it, in a sense, but this instance truly was the watery and bitter icing on an already charred and overall poor tasting cake. 

Then again, his easily trusting nature got him his spot with Sapnap and George, both shouting out panicked warnings and blocking the too-accurate shots Dream launched with their heavy shields. “Mexican Dream!” Sapnap shouted then, and MD craned his neck to look at the arsonist, who nodded his head to the third person of their cartel. George caught his eye, running with a shield with several smoldered punctures in its wood; the older grabbed MD’s hand and flung the both of them into one of the bushes along the prime path, leaves rustling noisily as the two men crashed into them. MD watched with wide eyes as the flaming arrow flew right through where he had been before George’s save, embedding itself in a vine-filled hillside. 

“Thank you, thank you,” he rushed out as he scrambled out of the bush, hastily pulling up George with him as they dashed to the oak wood planks that led to the community house. His brain was running solely on adrenaline and the after effects of the lines from earlier, a horrid sense of fear gradually setting in as he and George skidded around a corner, Sapnap hot on their tail and Dream slightly farther back, shouting obscenities at the trio the whole way. 

  
  
  


\-------

That night as George laid in bed that night, staring at the stone ceiling of his cottage, memories raced through his mind, almost all of them revolving around MD. He recalled how warm the man’s hand was in his grasp as they barrelled away from peril, clumsily tumbling into the shrub in a mess of tangled limbs and strangled shouts. With a soft puff of air passing past parted lips, George reminisced of the alluring image of MD’s warm brown eyes blown wide with exhilaration and of the rough feeling of his hand as he helped George up and away from the threat. 

As he continued to reflect, George came upon the sudden realization that he would do anything for his friend, that he would even die for the man if it came to it- which, he supposed, it had, when they were running in the stifling heat of the Nether, air laden with a smell redolent of sulfur and a panic so deeply set that their lungs burned as if they had inhaled pure acid. 

George closed his eyes, in a useless sort of hope that his hyperactive brain would shut off when he did so. Instead, when his vision went completely dark, he felt more immersed in the scene of MD staring back at him with a bright cheery-like smile, the younger's hands grasping George’s own intimately as his eyes reflected his thanks just as kindly as his hearty words. His mind raced, replaying the ‘thank you’s like a sweet melody from a mellowed record player, composed just for George’s pitiful heart. 

He squeezed his eyes tighter then, hoping the white splotches that danced across his vision could drown out the sweet image of MD’s grin, soft around the edges as their laughs danced merrily in the fresh air of the overworld. It failed tremendously, warm peals of laughter filled George’s memory in an all encompassing embrace of a certainly platonic love and appreciation.

Platonic.

Obviously. 

It was definitely at least a little counterintuitive to try to convince himself that he wasn’t catching feelings for his friend, but nonetheless George’s brain grasped at straws at an attempt to prove that he wasn’t completely and utterly fucked in the very metaphorical sense. Perhaps MD’s timing was perfect for the situation, not for the sanctity of the older’s mind, but instead to further the situational irony.

With a little beep that was loud in comparison to the suffocating silence of George’s cramped little cottage, MD’s message appeared from the communicator George held with a blinding light. Blearily squinting his eyes, he read out:

_ Mexican Dream whispers to you: hey bro, cool song that reminded me of today. thanks again for the help with getting away from the police, man. ;)  _

The next message was a link to a song that George clicked with little hesitation, curiosity overwhelming any inhibitions that may have lingered from an earlier stage of friendship, one that was abandoned as soon as they had jumped off of the edge of El Rapids’ platform to run from Dream. 

The song wasn’t an official version- slowed with an added reverb that somehow fit the song, La Chona, oddly well. 


	7. soft tubbo n tommy stargazing (/p)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quote is "i have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night" by sarah williams... i really like the night Smile

Here, Tommy and Tubbo laid in a long awaited silence, packed full of a peace that the children hadn’t known for the longest time. 

Here, the crickets chirped pleasantly and the moths flitted about the lanterns the two had set up. Tommy looked every once in a while for one he could keep as a pet.

Here, the air was warm with chilled undertones, a characteristic brought by late spring and the cool wind that rustled the fresh green leaves of the oak trees, the faint smell of the white lilac bush that Bad had planted near Skeppy’s house.

Here, the monsters could not reach them, their gurgles left hundreds of blocks below, the island they lay on miraculously spawn proofed. 

Here, the skies were wondrously clear, a thankful lack of clouds and smog that the boys found themselves appreciating more and more. Skeppy’s sky islands were a nuisance at times, but the beautiful view of the moon and her glorious stars was a sight for sore eyes that served well enough as a nonverbal apology.

It was then that Tommy and Tubbo found themselves truly appreciating the situation, where they could lay for hours on end until the sun painted the sky pinks and oranges in a reminder that they would get to see more sunrises in the time they had bought upon Dream’s incarceration. 

It was then, as they gazed up at the dark skies and the dazzling stars that shone especially bright, that they found their peace, in the way that they could finally breathe slowly and love it with each deep exhale and fluttery inhale.

Tommy recalled, as he stared up at the skies, the stories that Technoblade told him about the Greek origins behind the constellations. Oftentimes, they were horrific tragedies, and the stars were a sign of their hosts suffering in life, but some stories, like that of Aries and Aquila, told stories of kindhearted men who rose to the stars in glory and magnificence and children escorted to safety. Unconsciously, Tommy tightened his hold on Tubbo’s warm hand ever so slightly.

Tubbo looked at Tommy then, a gentle yet teasing smile gracing his face as he was bathed in the pale moonlight. Tommy pointed up at the skies, and his friend’s gaze followed its direction.

_ I’ve loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night. _

Here, it was peaceful, and the air was calm, and chaos may continue the next day, but for now, they would be okay. 


	8. technoblade and tommy argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> imagine if they used their words lol

“Technoblade, you don’t believe in anarchy, and you certainly don’t practice what you preach. You are among the most powerful people on this server, second only to Dream, and yet you claim that power only serves to corrupt at any chance you get. You only practice anarchy because you’re scared of what will happen if you don’t have that power.”

“I practice anarchy because anything less will tear this server  _ apart _ , Tommy! It already has been, don’t you see?”

“You claim that the government is tearing the server apart-” “ _ Yes! _ ” “-but this is the second time you have blown up a nation and fought the innocent and defenseless citizens left in its wake. You have the advantage of power, and you abuse it until someone dies or despises you! You, yourself, are the catalyst to this server’s demise!”

“Not a single citizen in L’Manberg was innocent nor defenseless. I almost died in that battle, Tommy. These citizens who you’re so dead set on protecting would do anything for a single glimpse of power! They all try so hard to execute anyone who threatens their role as top dog, and act like feral hounds the minute someone doesn’t abide by their own personal morals.”

“Don’t act like you don’t do the same exact damn thing, Technoblade! It is within everyone’s right to act when they feel like they are defenseless against an obvious threat! Your power is absolute and you think it’s your right only.”


	9. phantommy and flowers blurb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's me your friendly neighborhood flower romanticizer

all individual flowers names spell out “you’re too late.” each one is given from tommy to someone else in sbi / tubbo & ranboo. tommy gives one last flower to phil, a note accompanying it telling him that tommy knows phils neglect was not purposeful nor anyone’s fault but tommy’s own. tommy tells phil that he knows niki will kill him, because she knows that tommy is the reason for wilburs death. tommy tells phil that he knows jack will accompany her, because he knows that tommy is at fault for the big crater where l’manberg once stood. tommy tells phil that technoblade was right about him, and that tommy was selfish and childish, someone who would never be able to survive in the real world.   
phil reads this all and weeps.  
phantommy watches with innocent eyes from the window shutters, wondering who this man was and why he was so distraught.


	10. horror blurb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written after the panic room streams with ranboo and dream terrorizing him. used fnaf quote for funsies

and then the entity grinned, all ominously stained teeth and halfway rotted gums. _ i am the worst of you _ , it hissed, breath foul and suffocating.

why couldn’t he breathe.

why couldn’t he breathe? 

_ once you peel back those wretched layers of flesh, and cower before your reflection just as you do now, then you will see. _

his hands desperately clawed at his throat, animalistic trails left in their wake as he tried to escape the vision’s eyes and remember how to be once more.

**_you aren’t real_ ** , he choked out, words clinging to a lead tongue,  **_i am me and you are my paranoia. you are not real, you can’t be_ ** . 

_ oh, i assure you _ , the predatory smile on its face grinned impossibly wider, rank smell of copper filling his nostrils just as he managed to inhale. _ i am very real. and one day, i will be you, and you will be naught. _


	11. some short blurbs compiled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> don't know where i was going with these

**> phil** **blurb**

when phil returned from the crater of l’manberg and manberg and new l’manberg, the sun was long set and the stars twinkled bright in the chill of the arctic. he had been sifting through rubble for hours on end to find any items that had survived the blast, unfortunately only being able to find shards of already-smelted iron embedded into the exposed bedrock. it was with a heaved sigh and slumped shoulders when phil left the nation that was never meant to be, slightly tattered wings carrying him upwards with strong and steady flaps. 

the same wings now rested at his shoulder blades as he walked towards the cabin techno and phil resided in. ranboo, too, phil mused, about to head in, when he looked off of the porch when he heard the moos of cattle neaby. from the same direction of where he assumed the bovines were, phil saw a small shack, made of spruce fences and a reinforced wooden roof.

> **puffy and niki. was gonna be lovers to enemies with flower languages**

puffy and niki sit in a field far from l’manberg. it’s a beautiful day, and they are surrounded by sweet smelling flowers and busily buzzing bees, pollinating as they went about their merry ways. 

it is here that puffy proposes the idea of a flower shop, as they gaze wondrously about the view.

> **just some small sentences i wanted to get down**

\--- he struck dark flint against the steel, sparks flying and erupting in purple plasma that swirled in its obsidian frame

\--- fat and fuzzy and fumbling bumblebees sluggishly swooping through squat sunflowers


	12. piglin tommy outline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there was stuff i wanted to do after the end of it, i think about the nether?? after exile?????? maybe. who knows this was in like january

-techno gets found in the nether when he’s 11 by phil when looting a bastian 

— at this point in time tommy is 6

—- tommy and techno had residence in around the same area, although they never spoke to each other

-one day tommy finds a ruined portal while off on his own

— he figures out how to fix the portal, using obsidian he had found in a bastian

—- he goes through because he was curious about the purple film of the portal

-tommy wanders through the overworld alone for 2 years

— he is 10 when he unknowingly steals from phil and techno’s potato farm

-phil brings tommy inside, asking techno what he thinks the kid’s punishment should be, because techno cares more about the potato farm than phil

— techno recognizes tommy, telling phil as such, which is a surprise to the man, who hadn’t realized tommy was a piglin hybrid

—- phil allows tommy to stay with them and wilbur for a bit

—— wilbur and tommy bond the most, as they were both brought in after having to live in the overworld by themselves in their youth

-tommy turns eleven a week after he’s brought in, but doesn’t bring it to attention.

— shortly afterwards, tommy leaves the house with a short note to wilbur detailing where he planned to go (the dream smp)

—- tommy is in the smp’s lands for about a month and a half, living in a hill in hiding because of his constant scuffles with dream when he was out

-wilbur comes to the smp after the aforementioned amount of time, to find tommy out of concern

— regular plot commences 


	13. tommy in court what will he do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> saw a . not so good courtroom writing a bit ago and my ace attorney head went brr so i started this and then got distracted while looking up transcripts of courtrooms

**Roles:**

Chairman : GeorgeNotFound

Judge : awesamdude

Magistrate : KarlJacobs

Bailiff : Punz

Adult Defense 1: Quackity

Adult Defense 2 : Ponk

Attorney ad litem/Mediator : ConnorEatsPants

Guardian ad litem : CaptainPuffy

Court Clerk/Stenographer : Ranboo

Client 1 : Philza

Client 2 : Eret

Defendant : TommyInnit

  
  
  
  


**Chairman:** Welcome, everyone, to the esteemed courtroom of L’Manburg. Today's proceedings will be conducted by senior judge Awesamdude. Awesamdude, if you would please stand before the court and raise your right hand. 

**Chairman:** Do you solemnly swear that the testimony that you are about to give this committee is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you Prime?

**Judge:** I do.

**Chairman:** Then you may be seated.

**Chairman:** Beforehand, we would like to thank everyone who is attending today to observe this case. With that, the floor is yours to proceed as you please, Judge.

**Judge:** Thank you. 

**Judge:** Today, we will be observing the custody battle for TommyInnit. 


	14. music chapter it's like a musical episode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> songs that remind me of dsmp characters or dynamics lawl you should follow me on Spotify Dot Com

[ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6Y875kLS6LqaY5C1YwiXiY?si=LADlTiVFS_a9XbfOKDGVQQ ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6Y875kLS6LqaY5C1YwiXiY?si=LADlTiVFS_a9XbfOKDGVQQ) \- soms vilbur songs

i’m just your problem - tommy and tubbo fighting

welcome to eden - tommy mourning wilbur’s death

[ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1gImGPTO8v8YlXGfYAzeWi?si=7rXJJpqOSXmXV0NNIT2Bhg ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1gImGPTO8v8YlXGfYAzeWi?si=7rXJJpqOSXmXV0NNIT2Bhg) \- tommy and tubbo before burning george’s house happened

[ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5lZB1VcgtR7pbUCwNfE4Kl?si=Vy1WP_9WTSup6O14oilwpw ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5lZB1VcgtR7pbUCwNfE4Kl?si=Vy1WP_9WTSup6O14oilwpw) \- some c!ranboo songs

[ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4sRL30tPE1JYzYAlqgIkkF?si=6dPn1fsnT5OcH4yAdPii6g ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4sRL30tPE1JYzYAlqgIkkF?si=6dPn1fsnT5OcH4yAdPii6g) \- more c!ranboo songs but just his inner turmoil

[ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2SUVaes5WL78bldOl429aj?si=rTjGsnJLTjO2cTOCv0bF5A ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2SUVaes5WL78bldOl429aj?si=rTjGsnJLTjO2cTOCv0bF5A) \- some c!tubbo songs

[ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4GGRDbu2waMSIDPPwn3wZ1?si=Z_z8rK67QgSC1J_ej4ajqA ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4GGRDbu2waMSIDPPwn3wZ1?si=Z_z8rK67QgSC1J_ej4ajqA) \- some c!tommy songs

[ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6IS0AVHYbcDxmYqeQv6Wwd?si=m7vV1x6QSqyjqeoiBWlaxg ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6IS0AVHYbcDxmYqeQv6Wwd?si=m7vV1x6QSqyjqeoiBWlaxg) \- songs that have bench trio vibes (tommy tubbo and ranboo)


	15. british version of wip lol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basically this will be actually finished but . mistakes were made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> essentially i am very american and always have been. wanted to write a bench trio fic where they’re just hanging out. guys bein dudes, y’know??? so i wanted to write them all in one country like they grew up there, and majority rules, i went with the uk. but i also know that america’s food situation is fucked up and england thinks we’re as dumb as every other country for it so i wanted to look into the snacks they have at gas stations (or petrol stations ?) and apparently they don’t even have slurpees at gas stations which was gonna be the premise of the fic. like i know there used to be ice tango blasts but those got replaced with icees and were only a thing as cinemas so. i have to abandon the england idea for them to be american (derogatory). it took a little too long for it to be all in vain so here’s the british version? not super long but that’s good considering the circumstances

Tommy’s phone buzzed from where it lay on his comforter, muted between the folds of insulating fabric. His focus shifts away from his laptop, eyes flicking to the mobile device, screen lit with the indication of a notification. He sluggishly fumbled for it, forearm cold and goosebumps already forming as he removed himself from under his blankets. 

_ 10:34 _ , reads his phone’s clock, white against his background’s seafoam, and Tommy found himself surprised that not much time had passed at all. He wasn’t sure quite what he expected, but he feels an 11:21 more appropriate, maybe. Below the time displayed, is an iMessage notification, from  _ Dumb Bastards _ , or a groupchat including Tommy, along with Ranboo and Tubbo. 

He clicked on the notification to read its contents, inputting his 6-digit passcode as opposed to his face ID purely out of laziness. The screen took a moment to load, before Tommy realized that he was missing an entire conversation. It was honestly surprising that Tubbo was even awake and communicating right now- usually he was out of commission until at least 14:30 or so.

  
  
  


_ March 20, 2021  _

_ 09:48  _

  
  
  


**_infuriatingly small man_ ** _ : are either of you awake rn? _

  
  


**_TubbZone_ ** _ : Yah I’m awak why _

  
  


**_infuriatingly small man_ ** _ : I am incredibly bored _

_ where is Tommy I am in the mood for fake beef _

  
  


**_TubbZone_ ** _ : Idk he is proboaly on a walk right now, it’s eraly _

  
  


**_infuriatingly small man_ ** _ : I don’t think so, it’s raining right now lol _

  
  


**_TubbZone_ ** _ : Oh wat lol _

_ I’ve been in living room with sister s \o/ _

_ Watching telly _

  
  


**_infuriatingly small man_ ** _ : is there even anything good on today _

  
  


**_TubbZone_ ** _ : Hasn’t been for a bit, just watching rerusn  _

_ Too bad that ist raining right now becus a cheese old sitcom just cam on _

  
  


**_infuriatingly small man_ ** _ : yeah there wasn’t anything good on earlier either, I feel miserable lol _

  
  


**_TubbZone_ ** _ : How long have u even been awake bigbman? _

  
  


Tommy smiled faintly at the opportunity to talk, he had felt dreary all morning. Everything seemed a bit too bland today, and YouTube videos were unfortunately unappealing to him. His fingers scratched for something to do and his leg bounced at any chance he got, the need to change his position every few minutes overwhelming. Hopefully, he could distract himself with a conversation.

He typed out,  _ i bet ranboo’s been awake since 06:30 like the freak he is.  _ A snicker left his mouth at the joke- there was something so rawly hilarious at calling someone a freak for something incredibly mundane. Tommy’s phone buzzed as Ranboo disliked his message, and then again as Tubbo emphasized it.

  
  


**_infuriatingly small man_ ** _ : well good morning to you, too, Tommy :unamused: _

  
  


**_TubbZone_ ** _ : Good morning Tommy!! :D _

  
  


_ good morning tubbo, my one and only friend _

  
  


**_infuriatingly small man_ ** _ : BRUH _

  
  


_ ranboo you are such a discord user. you type out emojis like a complete fucking loser. point and laugh at the nincompoop  _

  
  


**_infuriatingly small man_ ** _ : Tommy you use Discord too man idk what you’re trying to accomplish here _

  
  


**_TubbZone_ ** _ : No no Rnaboo has s point _

  
  


_ shut the fuck up tubbo i’m asserting my dominance _

  
  


**_infuriatingly small man_ ** _ : you’re like an over territorial chihuahua it’s so strange _

  
  


_ you take that back you Fucking bitch. _

  
  


**_infuriatingly small man_ ** _ : what do you have against chihuahuas Tommy? lol _

  
  


_ they are inferior in every way and also Small. _

  
  


**_TubbZone_ ** _ : Hmm. I agree with bot hof you I think. _

  
  


_ see!! tubbo gets it!! _

  
  


**_infuriatingly small man_ ** _ : lol _

  
  


_ wait _

_ TUBBO UNDERSCORE I HOPE YOU LIKE HOSPITAL FOOD _

  
  


**_TubbZone_ ** _ : I don’t think I’d o actylly! _

_ Is hopstal food a bit like petrol stasions food do yuo think,? _

  
  


**_infuriatingly small man_ ** _ : no I don’t think so _

_ less icees maybe _


End file.
